Complacent Kisses
by SuperWoman0124
Summary: Existing Relationship Wincest where Sam is stressed out at work and Dean gives him a little TLC.


Complacent Kisses

Summary: Existing Relationship Wincest where Sam is stressed out at work and Dean gives him a little TLC.

Notes: So, this was originally posted on 01-14-15 to Ao3. (Where I've been active for the past 5 years.) Noticed whereas I get more hits on Ao3, I get more interaction on this website. So, I'm going to start posting my older stories here. If you wanna check out what else I have or like that platform better, come check me out on Ao3 (Superwoman0124) and Tumblr. (whoaeasytiger)

Original Post; It's slowly becoming apparent that I cannot write PWP. I apologize for how long it is, but this is my first Tumblr prompt fill, so I didn't really know how long it was supposed to be. This prompt is for .com. based on this post: post/107792832761/wineandlights-superwoman0124

Art by SeymourSPN.

"Jesus!"

A shatter rang, echoing off the walls and into Dean's office of their small apartment. Dean's hunter instincts kicked in as he threw himself from his chair and raced to the origin of the sound. It led him to the kitchen where he found Sam's hand bleeding. Bright red blood pooling on the floor. Sam was wincing and hissing, and until Dean heard first piece of glass crunching under his boots, he didn't know what was going on. Sam had shattered a glass drinking cup.

"You alright, Sammy?" Dean quickly and frantically grabbed a rag from the counter and wrapped it around Sam's hand, applying pressure to the gaping wound in the side of his palm.

"I - I'll live. Dean, you didn't wash the dishes AGAIN!" Sam pushed the unwounded palm into his left eye, Dean imagined, trying to push back the tears of frustration threatening to emerge.

Dean's eyesight led to the sink where a lonely ceramic cereal bowl and a spoon remained.

"How many times have I told you that I can't go to work, go to school, **AND** clean up after you?" Sam sniffed, thrusting his hand to his side and slapping his thigh.

"But, Sam-" Dean looked around their two-bedroom apartment, not a book, not a magazine or anything else out of place. The entire apartment was spotless, sans the dishes in the sink.

"I've told you time and time again! Seriously, Dean. This is ridiculous!"

Dean stared at the rag soaking through with his little brother's crimson blood and smirked. They've never really had this conversation. Dean changed when they moved in together. He relaxed, became more of who he wanted to be. He wore looser clothes, indulged all the unspoken hunter laws he always had to avoid. Hell, he'd even gotten the two ear piercings his dad said he couldn't have. Dean always cleaned up after himself. That was the biggest clue.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Dean raised his hand to Sam's cheek and watched a glassy tear slip passed his finger. He tightened his grip on Sam's injured hand and looked briefly at Sam's charcoal Oxford button-down shirt and tie, watching the tear stain the fabric black.

Sam looked at him with glistening hazel eyes that burned into Dean's core. In that moment, Sam realized that Dean knew him. Knew him so well that he knew when Sam was frustrated. Sam knew that if he didn't want to spill, didn't want to talk and just wanted keep fighting, that his big brother would let him. He'd take it. That's how much he loved him.

"I-" Sam brought the uninjured hand up and slapped it back down. "I don't know, okay?"

"That's fine, Sammy. Go sit down. I'mma' get the first aid. You'll probably need stitches." Dean bowed down to kiss the back of Sam's palm and Sam sat down, mouth agape. Wondering what the hell he did in a past life to deserve someone as attentive as his big brother.

Dean padded off, heading to the bathroom. He bent over into the cabinet and pulled out the kit. When he stood, he peered at the figure in the mirror. He eyed his reflection quickly, taking a deep breath before heading back out to his frustrated little brother. He was willing to take a right hook to the eye if it made Sammy feel better.

He found Sam with his head down on his arm on the table, and Dean sat across from him. Dean grabbed the wounded hand and began unwinding the impromptu bindings.

"Spill, Sammy. I know you've got cogs spinning in that big brain of yours." The wound looked angry, flared red and still leaking the copper fluid the Winchesters knew too much about.

"You... wanna talk? What happened to no chick flick moments?" Sam lifted his head, tears freely flowing from his puffy eyes.

"Gotta get it off your chest somehow. Look, I know I'm-I'm not the best boyfriend, but-" Dean popped open both sides of the first aid kit, pulling out a sterile needle and surgical thread. Stretching the tread to the amount he was sure he needed, he threaded the needle with practiced ease, clipping the end using his teeth. "I'm not dumb. I know when something's bothering you. So, school or work?"

"Work." Sam sniffed, watching Dean intently.

"Someone botherin' ya?" Dean gripped Sam's palm, nodding at him and giving him the "this-may-hurt-a-little" look. When Sam nodded his consent, Dean fished the needle in for the first stitch. Sam hissed and slammed his good fist into the table.

" _Fuuuck._ " Sam bit his knuckle. "I guess you could say that. Ah!- That promotion they just gave me? Fuck, Dean! Shit, I forgot how much that hurt."

Dean couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle. "M'sorry, dude. I'm goin' as fast as I can. I'm a little out of practice. But this has to do with your promotion?"

"Shhhhhhhit." Sam scrunched his face together like he'd eaten a lemon. "Yeah. They - they have me doing like 3,000 things all at once. Filing paperwork, tax papers, organization of files, all of it. I just- I thought working in a law office would be different. I hate it."

Dean forced the third stitch in and looked up at Sam.

"Then quit." Dean shrugged. Like it was that simple.

"What? Why?" Sam leaned in, watching Dean do the fourth and final stitch.

"Fuck climbing up the corporate ladder. Fuck your job and fuck them! If they want to treat you like a peon and not see your potential, then quit. I can keep my job at the hardware store and that'll keep us fed, baby boy." Dean looked up and shot Sam that signature Dean Winchester lady killer look. With a wink, he sliced the thread of the stitches and admired his work. "Not bad! Like ridin' a bike, eh, Sammy?" Dean stood, stretching out his knees to lean back on the sink and Sam followed, wrapping an ace bandage around the stitches.

"I love you." Sam chuckled, the moisture in his eyes finally starting to dissipate, but his eyes still glittered in the harsh sunlight beaming through the window. He lightly punched his brother's peck and hung his head in a silent apology.

The oldest Winchester sighed. "Sammy, you deserve so much more and-" Dean dragged his wet tongue across his smooth lips unknowingly. " Fuck it." Dean reached out and twisted his fingers into the back of Sam's hair and pulled him into his lips, moaning instantly at the contact. Dean pulled him in, so hard, so deep that the magnetism between them clicked, and Sam relaxed into the kiss. Dean tugged lightly on the bronze locks between his fingertips, gripping onto his baby brother for dear life.

Sam parted his lips, allowing Dean access with his tongue. Dean filled Sam's mouth, twisting and turning his tongue with Sam's, slow and languorous, heartfelt and passionate. Every time Sam got like this. Too stressed, too anxious, too much; Dean knew that all Sam needed was a little TLC.

"Gonna make you feel so good, Sammy." Dean gasped between parting breaths, leaning over to take Sam's earlobe into his mouth. Dean sucked lightly, clenching his other hand around Sam's shirt, bunching the fabric in a closed fist and beginning the inevitable drag to the bedroom.

The instant they were in the bedroom, Dean dropped to his knees before Sam. He fumbled with the clasp of his dress pants, desperate like a parched horse led to water. Dean pulled down the fly, ripping Sam's pants off as fast as possible. The second his baby brother's cock was exposed, Dean engulfed it into his warm wet mouth and sucked it all the way down. He gagged, but recovered as he pulled back, wagging his tongue over the tip, earning a lustful moan from Sam.

"Fff-fuck, Dean." Sam heaved, looking down to watch Dean suck his cock. "Wantchu. Want you so much."

Dean pulled off with a loud pop, licking a long stripe up the underside of Sam's cock. When Dean looked up, Sam saw nothing but those apple green eyes staring back at him. Sam brought his hand up and brought it to Dean's cheek, thumbing the two hoop earnings in his right lobe that he'd gotten in defiance. A momentary glance passed between them, then Dean went back to work.

Dean licked the underside of Sam's balls, feeling the weight rest on his nose and sucked one into his mouth.

"Ohh, fuck! Oh my god. Mmmm." Sam knees bent forward, threatening to collapse at any second.

Dean lavished the left, then moved to the right, quickly suckling on them. He licked another stripe up Sam before taking the member into his mouth. Dean hollowed out his cheeks, collected as much saliva as he could and sucked lightly on the head, forcing the rest down his throat.

"Dean... Dean..." Sam seemed to have forgotten anything but his older brother's name.

Sam slid his hands under Dean's arms and pulled him up slowly, instantaneously connecting his lips with Dean's wide lips, panting into each other's mouths with the unspoken passion they didn't need to voice. Dean slowly moved to Sam's neck, sucking a mark into his collarbone and moving up to suck on the joint between his neck and jaw. Sam offered a series of light gasps and spread his hands across Dean's now obvious bulge.

He pulled Dean's pants to his ankles and pushed him back down on the bed. Dean bounced before landing flat, a befuddled look spreading across his reddening face.

"What are you doin', Sammy?" Dean leaned on his elbows, watching Sam strut towards him.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier..." Sam stepped forward, hands in front of him. He lifted the injured one and scowled. "I'm sorry I took that out on you. It wasn't your fault, and I took it out on you."

"S'okay, Sam. Now get over here." Dean's smile turned brighter, wrapping his left hand around his cock, slowly jacking it.

"No, Dean, let me finish,-" Sam stopped walking.

"Sam, get your ass on my tongue, pronto, before I cut you off from sex for a month." Dean smirked, wiggling his pointer finger in a "come-hither" motion. Sam tried to smirk, but instead walked to the bed, knocking knees with his half naked brother. Sam leaned over Dean and pulled at the hem of his gray t-shirt, and once it was over his head and thrown to the floor, Sam dipped to claim his brother's lips once again, raising his hips to straddle Dean. A warm glow began in Sam's chest as he clung to his older brother's shoulders for dear life, beginning the slow drag of their flesh sliding together. Sam pumped his cock, slotting it next to Dean's and Dean let out a harsh gasp, allowing his head hit the mattress roughly.

Sam pumped his length, gasping and moaning, along with Dean's girthy cock in his hand. Dean looked like he wanted to claw out of his own skin. The bliss over took his face as the moans were ripped from his throat and his mouth left agape in the sounds that couldn't form words. Dean bucked his hips, aching for the attention that Sam was providing and Sam chuckled, sliding his hand down the two slick cocks.

Dean was breathless, and Sam had realized he'd had enough, so Sam stopped. Dean looked at him through the starry gaze that formed in front of his eyes. Dean instinctively darted his tongue out, running it across the length of his stretched lips. Sam fumbled his way, but soon enough, Sam's cock was in Dean's face.

As Sam tried to get higher, Dean couldn't stop kitten licking everything that came into his path. Sam's head, his shaft, his balls, his perineum until finally i finally /i that slick puckered hole Dean had been salivating for since they first started kissing. Dean flattened his tongue, poking in as he wiggled, making Sam squirm and writhe.

"Fuck, Dean. Gonna kill me." He reached down and took Dean's ear between his fingers, rolling the new piercings that he loved so much between them.

Dean pushed his head forward, slicking him up, before raising his finger to poke at the wanton hole.

"Gotta get you nice and open for my cock, baby bro." Dean tongued Sam's hole wider, wiggling his tongue up and down.

Sam took the first finger in stride. It went quickly, especially when Dean found his pliable prostate. Sam rocked on Dean's tongue, riding his face, grinding his hips and groaning. Dean quickly added another finger, only making Sam bolder and louder, whispering sweet nothings into the heated electrified air.

"Fuck, Deannnn. Want you. Want you now." Sam carded a hand through his silky hair, pulling on the roots and smiling down at the eyes between his legs. Dean licked a long stripe and pulled his fingers out. He tapped the side of Sam's thigh signaling that he was ready.

Sam immediately moved into action, kissing Dean hard, moving down his neck and shoulders, bracing himself on his palms. Sam moved lower and firmly grasped Dean's fully hardened cock, smearing the precome across the tip and down the fleshy shaft. Sam lined himself up, so eager to get rid of this stress, and pushed himself down.

Sam keened at the fullness and watching the effect take hold of Dean's facial features. His older brother physically relaxed, placing both hands on either side of Sam's hips in a punishing grip.

"Sammy, Sammy, fuck." Dean bucked up into Sam's tight heat. "You feel so fuckin' good."

Sam slammed down, letting out a guttural moan. He brought himself back up immediately, the feeling beyond unimaginable, so full, so eager, so hungry. Sam kept up the punishing pace, fucking himself silly and clawing at Dean's chest. Sam balanced his injured hand against the plastered wall, no longer noticing the pain of the ripped stitches. His hips weakened as he sat up, grinding his abused hole on Dean's pulsating cock. The new position made Dean throw his head back and let out a loud moan, panting Sam's name.

Sam shoved himself deeper, reaching down with his good hand to grasp his ignored prick, slicking the precome down himself. The instant he started pumping, Dean began to fuck up into him and Sam threw his head back to ride it out.

Dean clenched his fingers tighter around his little brother's waist, using the leverage to gain purchase to fuck into him harder, deeper, faster. Dean nailed into his prostate over and over, sending shocks of electricity to each one of Sam's nerve endings simultaneously. Sam came, gloriously, while hyperventilating, across Dean's sweat slick chest and his tensed abs. Dean opened his eyes to watch his brother come and pushed himself deeper, the sensation of Sam tensing around him taking him so close to the edge. Sam leaned over and licked up a small pool of come from Dean's stomach, knotting his fingers into his hair.

"Come on, baby." Sam antagonized, licking his lips 2 inches from Dean's face. "Come for me. I want it. Wanna feel that thick cock come inside me."

"I - I'm gonna-" Dean blinked a couple of times, his mouth forming an 'O' shape.

"Yeah, big brother? Gonna come? Gonna pump your baby brother all nice and full of your hot come?" Sam smirked. God damn his mouth. Something snapped inside of Dean and he felt his balls pulling taunt.

Dean let go, fucking furiously into Sam as he screamed his way through his orgasm. Every muscle in Dean's body flexed, back bowed, head shaking as he tipped himself over the edge. Sam lightly placed his hand on Dean's cheek, stroking the side of his face as Dean tried to supply his body oxygen that his lungs denied him.

"F...fffuuuccckkk." Dean exhaled, grabbing Sam's head and bringing it to his heaving chest. Sam laid, complacent, listening to his heart echo in his ribcage.

Once they were calm and breathing regularly, Sam looked at his hand, seeing the pool of crimson blood gathering on the bandage that hadn't even been there an hour. Sam chuckled, realizing how stupid he'd been for taking his stress out on the one person that cared about him more than anything.

Dean carded his hand through Sammy's hair, a gentle post coitus habit that had been hard to break. Sam spoke for the first time in what felt like an hour.

"I can't quit my job." Sam sighed halfheartedly. "Just because my job sucks now doesn't mean they won't trust me in the future."

"I know, baby bro. But the offer is there, if you want. I got no problem pickin' up extra shifts. Or taking the blame for your stress every once in a while. Especially if it leads to this." Dean sighed, running his fingers through Sam's locks.

"I love you, Dean." Sam snuggled into Dean's chest. "Can you do one more thing for me?"

"Hmm?" Dean raised his head.

"I'm pretty sure I ripped all my stitches."

Dean's head tilts back as he chuckled, patting a small space on Sam's back, signaling that he has to get up.

"Don't move. I'll get the first aid, bitch."

Sam snuggled into the reminiscent of Dean's smell, waiting until he was no longer in earshot before whispering; "Jerk."


End file.
